


Scarred

by TaiJanai



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: -Ish, Bottom Henry, Charles himbo, How did I forget, Hurt/Comfort, Its vanilla as fuck because I’m vanilla as fuck, M/M, Mention of blood, NSFW, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Smut, Special BROvert Ops Ending | SBO (Henry Stickmin), Top Charles, first fic, tw: scars (duh), twink Henry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaiJanai/pseuds/TaiJanai
Summary: Henry doesn’t want Charles to worry about him bleeding the fuck out, so that’s exactly what Charles is gonna do. They’re also gonna fuck, because Charles just Cares That Much.
Relationships: Charles Calvin & Henry Stickmin, Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 225





	Scarred

**Author's Note:**

> I have my own ideas of how the characters look, but I hope I left that part open enough to interpretation other than bottom Henry top Charles. Anyway stan Henrles.

Henry searched the fridge tiredly for something to eat. He was more bored than anything, but he needed something to get his mind off of the ache in his side. One of the guys he had fought kicked him where a scar was still healing. He would get bandages tomorrow, while Charles was getting groceries. Henry didn’t want him to worry.

He closed the fridge, still finding nothing appetizing after three double-checks. Without a distraction, his mind wandered. How would Charles even react?

Maybe he’d think it's gross. Henry was glad his shirt was dark, so no blood seeping through would show up. 

Charles has only seen Henry’s scars once before, a quick couple seconds as he walked into Henry’s room nonchalantly as he was shirtless. Even then, Henry quickly put on a shirt and tried to hide his torso.

When Henry told Charles (well, told is a strong word, it was more indicated) about his slight insecurity about his scars, the pilot was happy to go shirtless and show off multiple small scars. A couple from fires, helicopter mishaps, and even a gunshot. It was a sweet gesture, but it didn’t help Henry. Charles may be a big government guy who could knock someone's lights out, but he’s never been in a knife fight. He’s never stared at someone less innocent than him with the intent to harm. He wouldn’t have scars like that.

Henry became wrapped up in his own thoughts, pacing the kitchen awkwardly. Maybe he should get the bandages now. Where is Charles? In his room? Would he notice? What if, if Henry didn’t tell him where he was going, Charles would assume he’s going to go steal stuff?

He stiffened. He was done stealing. He told himself Charles would never think that of him. He scolded himself internally for doubting him.

He let out a groan. The exertion made his side sting.

Options flicked through his mind. 

Ask Charles if he wants a sandwich.

Confront Charles about the wound.

Avoid the topic and watch TV.

Go out and get bandages now.

With this, Henry contemplated. The third option was the cowards route, he thought, and wouldn’t solve anything. As much as he tried to tell himself otherwise, the fourth option felt wrong. 

Stuck between the first two, his stomach growled. It occurred to him it was the early afternoon and all he’d eaten this morning was a few pretzels.

Sandwich it is.

Henry trudged up the stairs to ask Charles if he wanted one. At the same time, the pilot was coming out of his room. He noticed Henry’s limping pace.

“Hey Henry! Back so soon? Uh… Why are you limping?”

Henry flopped his hands on his chest and down, symbolizing “tired.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but at least he wasn’t lying.

“You’ve been doing that one a lot, maybe you need more sleep,” Charles said, walking past him to go downstairs. “Want something to eat?”

Charles turned away and couldn’t see Henry’s response, but assumed it was a yes as he followed him down.

“Uh.”

Once again getting Charles’s attention, Henry flicked his fingers around, “I, Ask, You.”

“Oh, Uh, yeah! It’s fine, I’ll make something,” Charles replied.

Henry let out a sigh, giving up on doing something nice. As he continued down the stairs, the odd stepping caused a shock of pain to go up his leg, right to his side. He stumbled on the stairs, almost losing his balance, but quickly grabbing onto the rail. 

“Kkhhh…” He hissed.

Charles stopped again to look up at him. 

“Henry?”

His eyes watched as Henry clutched his aching side, noticing the small twitches.

“Did something happen?” He asked worriedly.

One of Henry’s hands was gripping the rail harshly for balance, the other over his stomach and holding onto his hip, scared to let go of the pressure. With both hands occupied, all he could manage was a bitter nod.

“Can you walk down? Or just- you can just sit down, uh. I have- I’ve got first aid in the helichopper- choppicopt- uh, hold on-“ Charles stuttered out. His eyes were wide and frantic. He rushed down the remaining stairs and threw the front door open, heading to his helicopter. 

Henry steadily made his way down the stairs, holding onto the handrail for dear life. Moving slowly made it less painful. He made it down and trudged to the couch. Once he sat down gently, he lifted up his shirt to inspect the damage. A bit of blood was oozing out of it, and it looked pretty bad. This one was huge and wrapped around the right side of his waist, starting under the right of his chest and ending at the middle of his back. Henry probably should’ve gotten stitches for it, but he decided against it. They would’ve kept him in the hospital, or sent him back to jail.

Trying to see his back without harming himself further, he heard a gasp from the doorway.

Henry saw the terribly scared look on his partner’s face as he took in the wound.

“Henry,” Charles mumbled, in a voice so pained and worried that it hurt, almost physically. It was as if the cut itself was feeling remorse for existing and making Charles upset.

He kneeled in front of Henry. 

“Shirt.” He waved his hand, seeming to try to shoo it away. 

Henry used his arm on his better side to get it off. He could definitely feel blood on it.

Charles couldn’t seem to focus on one thing. His eyes darted around Henry’s exposed torso, counting the smaller scars but repeatedly flicking back to the bleeding one. 

He rummaged through the hefty first aid kit, and pulled out gauze, a bit of cotton, and a large roll of bandage tape.

Working swiftly and intricately, Charles soaked up the blood he could, wrapped the bandages all around Henry’s middle, and covered the whole wound.

Henry himself felt odd. It stung, for sure, but it wasn’t too bad. Not with Charles doing it. He felt bad for worrying him, of course, but his focusing face was cute, and his hands working all over him was… nice, to say the least.

Charles traced the wrapping along his partner’s hips with his hands, feeling for anywhere too tight. 

“You should really eat more, man,” He commented.

He took his hands off when he realized how much he was touching him. That was a bit more than over the line. 

Henry looked down at himself, not noticing Charles’s flustering. He wondered how often it would need to be readjusted.

He met Charles’s eyes. He was pleading, almost disappointedly. 

“Henry…” Charles searched his exhausted face, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was knelt between Henry sitting on the couch and the coffee table. He was practically between his legs, but he only sat a couple inches below Henry’s line of sight. It felt weird to look down on him when they weren’t in a helicopter, where Charles is usually sitting and Henry standing beside him. Any other time, Charles towered over him, muscled and tall compared to Henry’s malnourished yet agile mousiness. 

Henry leaned back to use his hands to say, “You, no, worry,” then after a pause, “Angry.”

Charles replied exasperated, “Mad? I'm not gonna be mad, but yeah I'm gonna worry! If my partner is all, like, cut up and stuff and passes out during a mission because he’s been bleeding out is gonna worry me!”

His arms waved around as he spoke. Henry’s stayed still on his own lap.

Charles caught his own tone, knowing he sounded like a disappointed mother. 

He put a hand on Henry’s cheek. 

“You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to hurt alone.”

Henry tilted his head against the other’s palm. 

For a second, they sat in silence. Henry could feel the other’s heartbeat from his palm. It was fast. 

A smile tugged at his lips, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Like, you, touch,” He signed. There was the beginning of an attempt to add “Me” at the end, but his hand fell back to his lap instead. He gently grabbed the fingers of Charles’s other hand.

Charles smiled and chuckled lightly. Leaning forward, he brought his lips to Henry’s forehead. With his eyes closed, he rested his own forehead against where he had kissed.

Again, a few seconds of quiet left them together with their thoughts. 

Henry expected his head to flood with options like usual, but nothing came up. There was nothing but the two of them. He would have to make his own paths this time. 

Then, he put a hand on the back of Charles’s neck, leaned his head back to separate their foreheads, and kissed him, full-on.

Charles didn’t hesitate to kiss back, his hand sliding from Henry’s cheek down to the part of his waist that was unscarred. 

The hand on Charles’s neck was ruffling through his hair and pulling him as close as possible. Henry couldn’t get enough.

One hand from each of them was holding the other, while the other hands gripped each other tightly, communicating without words the love and need for each other.

A shiver went through Henry as he tasted Charles’s tongue. Why wasn’t it enough?

He leaned back again, disconnecting them. Once he had carefully slid off the other’s headphones, he let them fall to the carpet. 

“I am sorry…” He whispered breathlessly.

Charles smiled softly and let out a small laugh through his nose.

“It’s okay. You’re fine,” He assured him.

After a minute of heavy breathing and desperate kissing, it was mutually understood that this can’t stop here.

“Do you have…” Charles trailed off.

Henry nodded, then flicked his eyes to the ceiling, pointing to his room. Charles crawled off of him.

“I’ll get it, so… you don’t have to go up the stairs,” said Charles. 

Henry nodded with a hum, and let go of his partner’s head. Charles kissed him once again, on the top of the scars on his face, then headed up the stairs to retrieve a condom.

Hearing Charles rush up the stairs, Henry decided to undress himself. He didn’t know about the other, but he was hard as hell.

His bandages made it difficult, but Henry got his pants off. His dick pushed eagerly against the cloth of his boxers. The thought of Charles’s warm touch caused him to shiver. Speaking of which, the pilot was coming back downstairs. He saw Henry on his back nearly naked and erect and let out a little gasp. 

He set the condom and a tube of lube, also in one of Henry’s drawers, on the coffee table, and shoved it away so he would have room. Henry laid at an angle so his back could fit comfortably on the couch without bending, but his legs hung off. Charles knelt between them again, blushing a dark red being so close to his partner. 

“Do I… Uh… Prepare you? Like-“ He stumbled over his words.

Henry made a grabbing gesture towards the lube, and Charles handed it to him. With it in his hand he made the signs “I” and “Do.” 

Charles leaned back as Henry slid off his boxers and coated three fingers on his dominant hand in the clear substance. He reached down past his erect dick to feel for his asshole. 

Having an occupied hand isn’t the best for someone who uses ASL, but with his free hand he made the gesture for “I” and “Quick,” then pointing to Charles, he signed “Clothes.”

He understood, and began to take off his dress shirt and khakis. 

Henry quickly began to open himself up, entering two fingers at first. He tried to breathe through his stomach so the bandages wouldn’t get irritated, but the more he stretched himself, the less he cared. 

It didn’t sting very much, thankfully. Fingering himself watching Charles undress made him forget about any pains and aches. He just wanted this now, and from Charles’s pace, he did as well.

Henry was still adjusting to two fingers by the time Charles was done. The former had frozen when he saw the length of Charles’s dick being kept inside of his underwear.

“Do you need help?” Charles said softly, not knowing why the other had frozen.

Henry didn’t refuse as Charles knelt back down between his legs once again, his head inches away from his throbbing cock. 

Henry didn’t notice himself panting. He took out his fingers to let his partner continue for him.

The other was happy to oblige. He lifted up Henry’s legs for a better angle, and inserted two of his fingers into the small reddish hole.

Henry shook at the new feeling. Charles’s fingers were much larger and thicker than his own. Not to mention warmer. He covered his mouth with his left hand, afraid of his own voice and pleadings.

The pilot watched Henry’s reactions with a soft grin. Eliciting any sounds and reactions from him was always entertaining, but this time felt extra special. Henry’s face was burning red, as the tip of his needy dick twitched in a similar color. 

Charles eased his partner into three fingers, where Henry made a surprised grunt. When they had been worked in, he believed he was ready. He edged his fingers out of Henry, and kissed a scar on one of his thighs. 

“Alright. Ready?” He whispered as he stood.

The sight before him took a second to take in, one he wished he’d taken a picture of. For later.

Henry lay flushed on the couch, his hair messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead. He seemed on the brink of pleasured tears, looking up at the other with lidded eyes. Charles had never seen his face so red. The back of his hand was covering his mouth, which Charles could respect for the sake of keeping himself silent. Henry’s scars looked highlighted from the sweat, and accentuated a tough part of him that made Charles want to kiss every single one, it was so fucking manly. 

He glanced once more over the bandages he’d set to make sure they weren’t going to be bent or affected, then slid off his underwear.

Henry saw it spring out from the corner of his eye, and gave a little whine. An easy eight inches, steady girth, twitching to be part of the masterpiece laid out before it. Charles swiftly slid a condom over it, and coated it in a layer of lube.

Charles lifted his partner’s leg, making sure to keep his back straight. Henry’s flexibility made it easy, but Charles still tried to be as careful as he could be. 

He leaned over Henry, and his dick rested erect next to the other. 

“Really ready?” He whispered. His bright eyes seemed to glow against the darkness on his face, caused by him hunching. He casted a shadow over Henry. 

They looked at each other, shared in heartbeat and warmth. Henry nodded shyly. He felt Charles’s length twitch against his. 

Slowly, Charles lined himself up to enter. He pressed softly, and the tip entered. Henry’s toes curled, but there was no resistance. The heat inside him taunted Charles. It was so close, but Henry is literally bleeding in bandages, he had to be cautious. 

“Mm.” Henry grunted, moving his hand a bit away from his face.

Another few inches were pushed in. No big reaction. A few more, getting to a little bit before the middle, Henry tightened around Charles. This was farther than the fingers. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Trying not to pay attention to the pain in his ass brought Henry’s attention back to his aching side. 

After a moment’s thought, he decided Charles wasn’t touching him enough. 

He took hold of the hand that had been at the bottom of the bandages, where Henry couldn’t feel. The other hand was keeping Charles supported, so the smaller could settle for just one.

Henry held the hand to his face and kissed the palm, letting it cup his cheek.

He said the word “More” with his lips, but no sound came out. 

Charles obliged. They were almost there. Henry had adjusted quickly. He assumed it was his high pain tolerance, or just adrenaline. His subconscious had ruled out the truth: it did hurt. His whole body stung like hell and it was amazing. Every little ounce of pain was being caused or treated by Charles, and that made everything perfect. Maybe it wasn’t masochism, but it was some neediness that made him be a little too okay with any pain the other would cause.

Henry’s breath hitched when his partner’s hips reached his own. He flexed and unflexed his toes to get used to the feeling. In trying to straighten his back, he pushed back and grinded onto Charles, who moaned huskily.

They finally locked eyes again. Charles was drooling, like he was melting. The sheen of sweat he’d gotten seemed to highlight around him, making his silhouette more outlined. Henry swallowed hard.

“Go.”

With that, Charles began a steady pumping. His breath matched his slow pace. Tiny strings of noise came from Henry. Charles couldn’t hear them mostly, but he could feel himself getting closer to something, as each groan became clearer and clearer. 

He didn’t realize his speed increasing. Very steadily, though. Nothing Henry didn’t mind. He had actually begun drooling too. His mind became clouded with the soft, warm feeling that travelled from his stomach to his head. 

The pilot's hand went to Henry’s hair once he had let go. His fingers ran through it and set down close to the back. He’d gotten a good grip. It’s not like he’s gonna pull or anything, but it felt nice to hold him like that. 

Charles decided to go from pumping his hips into Henry to flicking. The first attempt, though, seemed to break the latter.

Henry let out a loud “Gah-!” His right hand flew up to grab the closest bit of Charles he could, the arm with the hand in his hair. The other hand went to reach for his dick, aching and neglected. He was afraid that shock would send him over the edge. 

Charles, also afraid of what he’d done, paused his thrusting. 

“Henry…?”

The scarred man’s hand gripped his arm tight, his nails digging into it hard.

“More… Please, Charles, please…” He begged softly.

“Ah-“

He frantically complied, attempting to hit where he did just then. Henry wouldn’t even beg for his life in most situations, but here he is, begging to get his ass fucked? Charles felt dizzy with an odd sense of pride. That's right. Henry wants him to fuck his ass. Nobody else gets to hear Henry’s voice say stuff like that. 

“Yes~” Henry’s shaking voice moaned. Charles must’ve been going harder without realizing. He angled for the spot he had hit before, and felt Henry shudder every time it was hit. Every thrust caused him to let out a desperate moan.

“Charles,” He gasped.

And he came. Thin white streaks shot from his cock across his chest and bandages. He clamped down hard on Charles. The latter practically jumped when he noticed. He leaned back a bit, assuming he should take his dick out of his partner. 

However, Henry grabbed his shoulder before he could get too far. His dick was still hard. He still wanted more, it wasn’t enough just yet.

“Keep going,” He mumbled, also making the signal with a trembling hand. 

Charles nodded, but used one hand to swipe the cum off of the bandages. If it’d stayed there, it would get soaked up and make them all gross. Now Charles had cum on his fingers. A split second of decision making decided that he can’t wipe it on the couch or on their bodies, so…

He licked it off his fingers. It was an odd taste. A bit salty but mainly flavorless. It was warm in his mouth. Henry stared at him, bewildered. He covered his face with a hand in total embarassment. 

“Mmmy god… Hhhh…” He hissed against his palm. His ears had never been so red.

Charles gave a sorry look. Henry waved him off with a flustered smile, and made the gestures for “Please, Just,” and “Go.”

As the pilot thrusted once again, Henry gave out a long groan. He was much more sensitive now and they both knew it. 

“Harder, please…” He mumbled.

Charles thought he would need to be gentler now, but if Henry asked for otherwise, he would do as he said. 

He got a firm hold of the crook of the other’s neck. Not choking, just a grip to hold onto. Henry’s hand wrapped around the wrist there. Charles pounded roughly into Henry’s ass, feeling him constrict and twitch around his cock, as it reached further and further with his breaching pace.

Henry’s free hand gripped the couch tightly. His mouth let out incoherent begging and cursing. He could think of nothing but the pounding warmth inside him. His body became more frantic and sensitive with every attack on his prostate. His nipples were hard little beads on his chest, erect in the steamy air between the ex-thief and his partner. His dick was red and dripping, ready to come again at a moment’s notice, but Henry wouldn’t be ready until Charles was.

He was apparently getting close as well. His grip was shaky and his supporting arm seemed about ready to give out. 

“Henry…” His voice strained. So close. He was almost there. He felt the aching heat in the bottom of his stomach. 

With another couple hard thrusts, Charles came hard and deep inside Henry, filling up the condom. 

“Mmmnnn…” He hummed, hunched so far that his face came closer to the other than it had before.

As Charles’s dick pulsed in Henry’s ass, the latter became super sensitive with Charles hanging over him so close. 

“Khhh… Fuck-“ He moaned loudly, and came for a second time. His hand crawled back up to his mouth, hiding the volume of his voice.

It was enough for now. More than enough, but perfect in that way.

Charles slid out of him carefully. The other let out a heavy breath.

The pilot used his own pants to wipe off Henry’s cum from all over his chest and bandages. He masterfully slipped off the condom like he’d done it a million times, but he was just trying to get himself done with as quickly as possible to help with his partner. He tied it up and quickly went to the kitchen to throw it out. 

Henry tried to adjust himself, but when he planted his foot on the floor, his leg wouldn’t lift him. All he could do was wait for Charles, helpless. His dick twitched tiredly as it became flaccid. His nimble fingers traced the bandages across his abdomen. The scar didn’t sting anymore. The only pain at that point was an aching in his ass, and his penis a little sore from the overstimulation. 

Charles returned and met the other’s soft eyes. It dawned on him that he probably couldn’t move, as he was incapacitated from the abdomen down. He rushed over and helped Henry lay down completely onto the couch. His hands lingered on his partners thighs. A second or two went by as he counted a multitude of scars. He traced the one that went from the middle of his hips down towards the middle of his right thigh. Henry watched his contemplating face. 

“How many are there?” Charles asked.

Henry rolled his head to look at the ceiling. His fingers started counting in sign language at different paces as he remembered each one. 

In the end, he made the sign for “Fifteen” and added the “So-So” gesture.

The other stared in melancholy awe. Henry became bashful and red under Charles’s gaze, especially as they both were still naked.

He pointed upstairs and made a twitchy “Clothes” gesture. 

“Right, m’kay,” Charles said with a tender smile, then joked, “Don’t go anywhere~!”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully as his partner bounded up the stairs. 

He hummed while recalling the different ways he acquired his scars. Lots of knives. More knives than anyone should ever have to deal with. And swords. And lasers.

He shuddered. Not the Lasers.

The thin walls told him of Charles’s imminent return. 

“Heads up,” He said, and tossed over a large shirt and boxers. Henry caught them with his good arm impressively.

He was able to slip on the boxers with little difficulty, but the shirt was giving him troubles. Maybe he didn’t need it. 

Henry was deciding, but Charles came over to choose for him after he’d put his own clothes on. He gave his back support without putting pressure on his butt, then laid him back down when the shirt was on. 

“Y’Still want… somethin’ to eat?” He laughed. 

Henry shut his index and middle finger against his thumb. A definite “No.” Then he shook around his hand as if it were cramping, and made the sign once again for “Tired.”

Charles chuckled again, “Alrighty then, Henry. Rest up some, then.”

He walked over to the arm of the couch, where the other lay, and leaned down to kiss the top of Henry’s forehead. 

“Love you, man.” He said softly.

“Love you, too.” Henry replied, also making the sign language gestures for the phrase.

He heard Charles head to the kitchen, probably to start making something for a late lunch. His humming and the gentle clinks of plates was Henry’s comforting lullaby. 

He closed his eyes and shifted closer to the back of the couch. With the comfort in his heart and the soreness in his ass, he knew he had chosen the right path.


End file.
